The Things We Put Between Us
by purseplayer
Summary: "Sometimes I think we're meant for more than one thing, Kurt. Sometimes we have to pick one and go with it. Sometimes we don't get a second chance to go back and choose again."
1. Part One

Religion was an issue Kurt and Blaine carefully tip-toed around for the majority of their relationship. Except, of course, when they were arguing about it.

Kurt was a hardcore atheist. Not hardcore in the sense that he actively protested against religion, but rather in the sense that he didn't like to hear about it, not ever. In his opinion, the entire matter was useless—something for weak people to turn to when they couldn't face the realities of the real world. And Kurt Hummel was anything but weak.

He had tried God, once. Eight years old, clinging tight to his mother's clammy hand as he sat beside her bed. He had listened to her moaning painfully in her sleep as he focused the best he was able on begging and pleading and bargaining for her to wake up. She never did.

Blaine, on the other hand, was Catholic, and not even by force of habit. His parent's had taken him and his brother to mass when they were children only on Christmas and Easter, and by the age of ten Blaine had been wise enough to understand that it was mostly for show.

But then he transferred to Dalton his freshman year of high school, eager to make a good impression, and Wes, an upperclassman, had taken him under his wing and become his first true friend. It was Wes, devoted and serious in his love of God, whom Blaine had followed to Church every Sunday, and soon youth groups, worship services, and the rest. After a few experiences something had sparked within Blaine, and he had decided for himself to be a Christian—flawed, but sincere in his desire to live in a manner that would be pleasing to his Heavenly Father.

When Blaine and Kurt had first begun dating, Kurt had told him outright that he was an atheist and expected Blaine to respect that. Blaine tried to, he really did. He just wanted so badly for Kurt to know the wonderful peace that his faith brought to him, the reassurance that no matter what he had to deal with in his day-to-day life, he had a loving Father that would always be there for him, and the promise of an eternity full of nothing but goodness and beauty.

It was what kept Blaine going, especially after his earthly father—and mother—turned out to be less-than-thrilled when their son finally told them he was gay.

Gay. It had come up in their arguments a lot, in the beginning, Kurt demanding to know how Blaine could possibly find so much comfort in a belief system that everyone knew condemned them because of something beyond their control.

_"It's not all like that, Kurt," Blaine would try to explain. "The scriptures are open to interpretation, and besides, there are many rules in the Bible that most Christians agree are not practical or moral enough to continue practicing!"_

_"Maybe so," Kurt would counter, "but those views are more universally out of practice. Nobody's standing on a street corner with signs saying that God is for slavery, but there certainly are plenty of Christians openly against homosexuality! Who think it's our choice, or worse, that we're possessed by demons or consorting with the devil! And you're willing to align yourself with those people?"_

_"Every religion can be used for hate, but God is really about love! What I believe in is love, Kurt, regardless of who it's between. And while many of my faith are still evolving, there are plenty of Christians out there who recognize that and support our right to love!" _

The argument always ended the same, with the boys agreeing to disagree, and to be truthful, it had been quite some time since it had cropped up in Kurt and Blaine's lives. As their relationship grew more serious, a new argument took its place.

_"You want to be a father, Blaine. But how will we ever agree in raising our children? I want our son or daughter to believe in fairy tales, but not the kind that breed such hopeless dependence and close-mindedness."_

_"Are you saying I'm close-minded? How dare you! You know me, Kurt, nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, it's you that's closed off to new ideas. How can you know you're an atheist when you've never explored any other way of looking at the world? I don't want our children adopting such a cynical mindset because you can't open yourself up to exploring one of the most meaningful parts of human existence!"_

_"Because I can't bring myself to waste my time pondering questions with no answers when I have a real life to live?" Kurt countered. "Just look at you, minoring in theology, and for what? At least I devote my studies to things that will matter in my future career, that will pay our bills and feed our family!"_

_"Because fashion and theater are such meaningful, stable career choices," Blaine said sarcastically, rolling his eyes._

Unfortunately, existential opinions weren't the only problems cropping up in their relationship. As they approached their later years of college, it became increasingly obvious that their priorities in life did not always line up. Blaine saw their years in school as an opportunity to learn, grow, and explore (the reason he eventually settled for a major in liberal arts) before settling into what he hoped would be a rather ordinary life full of routine and simple pleasures. He cherished dinners with their friends, relaxed evenings at home cuddling on the couch in front of the tv, morning jogs at the park.

Kurt, on the other hand, approached college as a first step to success, every minute a chance to plow towards his chosen career (or careers) with determined vigor. He was constantly networking, cramming his electives full of classes he thought would further his chances, and, of course, working and auditioning on the side. Blaine rarely saw him, but when he did, Kurt's philosophy of work hard, study hard, play hard meant that they were always out and about, at theaters, clubs, and parties.

They were still in love, and clinging to that stubbornly while their differences were slowly driving them apart. Something had to give. And then, one night, something did in a way neither of them ever expected.

_The club, one of New York City's finest, was dark and in full swing that night as Kurt wondered somewhat desperately through the never-ending sea of bodies, searching for Blaine. He had stepped away for a moment (ok, more like an hour) to speak with some friends from the theater club. But now he had been searching for over twenty minutes, and this wasn't like Blaine, not at all. _

_He had left the other man alone at the bar, on his second drink, with the promise to return in fifteen minutes. _ _Blaine had been miserable. He hadn't wanted to come along in the first place, but Kurt had known that with time (and a little alcohol) he would manage to loosen up and have some fun… or so he had told himself at the time. Blaine wouldn't have left him here, would he?_

_Anxious and more than a little guilty now, he headed for the more private back rooms, fear clenching in his stomach. He glanced through them quickly, doubtful that Blaine would have come back here. He loathed PDA, whether it was him and Kurt or other couples. It was one of the many reasons he hated clubs._

_Kurt was about to leave the final room when a moan caught his attention. His eyes beelined towards the sound, coming from a couple pressed up against the wall._

_"Blaine?!" he cried out, anger and shock evident in his voice. _

_Sure enough, a familiar face framed with mussed black curls peeked out from behind a larger man's shoulder. "Oh God, Kurt," he said, pushing the other man away. The guy groaned and shucked up his paints hastily before shooting both of them a glare and storming out of the room. Blaine, too, was attempting to straighten himself up, but having achieved a base level of decency seemed to give up and sunk to the floor instead. His words came out in a desperate rush as panic seized him. _

_"I'm drunk, you know that Kurt, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"_

_"Forget it," Kurt said, trying desperate to hold back the furious rage that was building steadily, overwhelmingly within him. His eyes scanned up and down Blaine's body, crumbled and disheveled and small on the barren floor, disgusted. _

_"I can't do this now I… Blaine, I can't." He turned around and walked out._

_By the time Blaine had gotten himself together, hailed a cab, and made it back to their apartment, he found only a note._

* * *

Kurt didn't quite know what to do with himself, afterwards. Being rather practical, he pushed his emotions aside until he found a new place to live. That being done, he decided to allow himself a week to grieve. He spent the time mostly in bed, barely eating, fitfully sleeping, sobbing over pictures and mementos and dreams of a future that was now dead.

After that was over, he decided to celebrate his new-found freedom by indulging in all the things he felt he'd been denied due to his relationship with Blaine. This included several parties and many one-nightstands. The encounters were never satisfying, and he would quickly push the men out the next morning should they be stupid enough to stick around.

He managed to lie to himself for almost a month before he was forced to admit just how much he had lost. Maybe there was value in weekends wasted lounging around the house, watching movies and making love and taking walks in the park, after all. Maybe too much networking meant spreading himself too thin, and too much working meant burning himself out. Maybe depending on somebody wasn't always such a bad thing, after all, and maybe he had been stupid and blind and foolish not to allow himself to depend on Blaine just a little bit more.

If he had realized Blaine's lazyness—his carefree, easygoing, trusting way of viewing life—had been the yin to Kurt's yang, maybe they would have stayed home that night, making love in bed while Broadway's greatest love songs played softly in the background. Maybe Kurt wouldn't have abandoned Blaine for over an hour, as he so often did, to 'network' with his 'friends', leaving Blaine alone to miss him and drink too much (as Blaine, if left unmonitored, so often did) and cheat on Kurt.

Who knew that there was such a thing as too much ambition, too much independence and hard work?

Blaine did, Kurt thought sadly to himself. But now Blaine was gone.

That fall, Kurt's senior year, he signed up for a religious studies class. It wasn't theology, he knew, but Kurt also knew that that wouldn't really matter to Blaine. He would open himself up, if only a little. It wasn't nearly enough, and it was certainly too little, too late—but somehow it seemed a first step towards the atonement he so desperately craved.

* * *

Blaine didn't quite know what to do with himself, afterwards, so he let himself break. He certainly couldn't go running after Kurt and beg for forgiveness, as he ached so badly to do. He didn't deserve Kurt, didn't deserve his forgiveness after what he had done. His second instinct was to lose himself in drink, but no, that was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

So Blaine did the only thing that made sense at the time: he threw himself into bed, and he stayed there for a long, long time. The days crawled by or flew, Blaine having no sense of them, until at long last an alarm sounded. Blaine shook himself out of his self-imposed stupor, reaching over to shut it off and realizing what the sound must mean. It was a Sunday. It must be; Blaine hated early morning classes and so always set his schedule so that the school day started late enough that he could sleep in as much as he wanted. Sundays were the only exception, the only day for which Blaine had a pre-set alarm.

Only half-aware he was doing so, Blaine dragged himself out of bed, showering and pulling on clothes robotically. Soon enough, he found himself standing in front of the Church he attended every week. He walked in, quickly spotting an empty seat among the crowded room and falling to his knees in front of it. Yes, this was what he needed—prayer, closeness, dependability. Blaine needed God. He pushed aside the nagging thoughts in the back of his head that insisted he needed Kurt, too. He didn't deserve Kurt, not anymore, and could never expect the man to forgive him. Only the Lord's unwavering graciousness was big enough to forgive Blaine's sins.

He didn't take communion. It wouldn't be right to do so this week, but Blaine promised himself he would come back on Tuesday for confession.

After Sunday, Blaine set himself a strict schedule, one that Kurt would have (mostly) approved of. He attended classes with a new focus and devotion, studying hard and even managing to bring his already-high GPA up a little more. He got a job that filled most of his free time, choosing to be a barista at a small coffee shop that was on his daily route. When Blaine's time wasn't consumed by work or school, he threw himself into studying the Bible. Eventually, he kicked it up a notch by joining a Bible study group, where he made new friends for the first time in a long time.

Blaine Anderson turned to God, a little more desperately than ever before. Despite all he had been through, and his persistent inability to forgive himself, Blaine found a way to make peace with his past and the mistakes he had made. After working hard, he felt good about his life, but he didn't feel right. _Right_ was the perfect word for the perfect feeling he had only ever found in Kurt's arms and by his side. Blaine would never feel right again, but he had made peace with that.

It was two years later, sitting in Church as he did every Sunday, when Blaine was inspired to make the decision that would change his life. With Kurt long out of the picture, it was hardly a sacrifice. Soon, Blaine moved back to Ohio. He didn't look back.

* * *

It was a sunny, vibrant Autumn day when it happened, completely ordinary and completely unexpected. Kurt Hummel was back in Lima to visit his father for the week, and decided to stop by for a coffee at the Lima Bean for nostalgia's sake. And there he was, sitting with a book and a steaming cup in the corner. Blaine Anderson. Kurt was about to turn around and walk back through the door when the other man looked up, suddenly, and met his eyes. The shock was evident on Blaine's face as he stood rather hastily, and Kurt's feet were moving forward without his approval, drawn to the handsome, dark-haired man.

Blaine himself looked much the same as ever, but Kurt could read his age in his eyes and in his clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a faded blue polo. Not at all on par with his old standard of style, but he still looked beautiful.

"Hi," Kurt said a little awkwardly after standing there a moment. _Why are you here?_

"Kurt," Blaine said, sounding unsure himself. "How are you?"

"Good! I mean I'm… good," he finished lamely then added a hasty "how are you?"

"I'm... this is so stupid. Please, sit down, catch up with me if you have a moment?"

"I do," Kurt replied simply, sinking down into the seat next to him as Blaine again sat in his own. "This is a surprise."

"Yeah. A good surprise? I never thought I'd see you again, honestly, after you…. left."

"If we're really being honest, back then I never intended to see you again. But I was a little… shocked when you didn't try to contact me, after."

"I had no right to," Blaine said, hanging his head, "not after what I'd done."

"What you did was wrong," Kurt conceded. "But I can see now that I did a lot of things wrong, too. That's all in the past now. I forgave you a long time ago."

Blaine's eyebrow quirked a little at that, but he was quick to cover his reaction. "It's good to hear you say that," he said earnestly. "But please, tell me about you? What do you do now? Is there anybody… special, in your life?" Blaine cringed a little at that last question, but he had to know.

Kurt offered him a small smile. "I work mostly as a costume designer for various shows, still in NYC, but I do audition myself from time to time. And no, there's no one special. There hasn't been anyone important for a long time." _Not since you, _Kurt wanted to add, but bit his lip instead. "I'm just in town for the week, visiting my father."

"How is he?" Blaine asked, feigning ignorance. He knew very well how Burt was, they had dinner nearly every week.

"He's good," Kurt responded, more comfortable with this line of questioning. "His health's held up pretty well these last few years; we've been lucky. Carol and Finn are doing well, too. Finn's engaged now."

"To Quinn, yes, I think I read that somewhere in the paper."

"So you live around here, do you?" Kurt couldn't help but pry.

"Yeah, I have for about three years now."

"Are you happy here? Is it what you want?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry, I'm overstepping. That's none of my business, now."

"No, it's fine. And yes, I'm very happy." _Lie_, his brain practically screamed at him, but he shut it away. "It's a quiet life, but a good one." _ A lonely one,_ Blaine thought to himself.

"Do you… have someone special? Someone to share it with?"

Blaine looked down at his hands, knowing this was his chance. "No," he answered simply, folding his hands together and gripping tightly. He couldn't do this. "I'm sorry Kurt, I can't," he said, standing hastily. "I have to go."

"Wait, Blaine, don't," Kurt pleaded, and Blaine spun around in spite of it all, a few steps away from the table now. "Have dinner with me?" Kurt was grasping at straws, feeling desperate to make the other man stay. "Please just… don't leave."

"Like you left me?" Blaine couldn't help but snap. He regretted it instantly. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," he sighed, running his hands through his hair. Kurt could tell, seeing that, that he was nervous. Finally, Blaine met the other man's eyes again, a sad resolve lingering there. "I can't have dinner with you, Kurt. Not… like that. But come with me, I'll explain, just… not here."

Kurt gave him a confused look, wanting to read the answers in his face, but Blaine had already turned away, continuing to walk to the door. Kurt followed behind him. He felt a little lost, but he couldn't let this—couldn't let Blaine—walk away from him again.


	2. Part Two

The car ride lasted all of ten minutes, but the silence that stretched between them made it endless, somehow. When Blaine finally pulled up in front of a small but neat-looking brick house, Kurt was relieved to have it over. They climbed out of the car, and Kurt started toward the porch when he noticed suddenly that Blaine was not going the same way.

"You don't live here?" he asked, growing more puzzled by the minute.

"I do," Blaine answered, cryptic again. "Come with me, please."

He started out across the lawn towards a large, more ornate looking building, Kurt trailing behind him awkwardly. "A Church, Blaine? You know how I feel about that."

But Blaine either didn't hear him or wasn't going to acknowledge his complaint, so he continued into the building, sliding into the seat beside the one that Blaine had just taken in the second-to-last pew.

"This… is my Church." Blaine said after a long lapse of silence.

"Ok…" Kurt drew out the word. "That's great, I guess, but I still don't get why we're here. Why is this so important?"

Blaine sighed softly, something giving in his face. "I don't just go here, Kurt. I preach here."

"You… what?" Kurt asked, stunned and disbelieving. Something was sinking fast in his stomach, and he swallowed back a bout of nausea as he struggled to think of something better to say.

But Blaine had words. Suddenly, they were all there in a rush, pouring out of him in a jumble, reminding him of that first, long-ago confession. "I couldn't… after what I did to you, to myself. I couldn't be with anyone again, I didn't deserve that. I straightened up, Kurt. I started taking myself more seriously, taking school more seriously. I got a job. And then, it had been a couple years, and I was at Mass one morning, and it just… made sense, I guess. If I couldn't have you, then this was the best thing for me. So I became a priest. And I'm…" Blaine almost said _happy_, but reconsidered at the last moment. "I'm content, I guess." _I still ache for you in every moment._

Kurt was silent for a long time, and Blaine tried to wait patiently for him to process. "Kurt, just… say something? Please?"

Kurt knew he shouldn't say what he was really thinking. He had no right to, really. Blaine hadn't been his in a long time, and maybe that was partially his own fault. But deep down something had always told Kurt that Blaine belonged with him, just as he would always be Blaine's. Anything else was just… _wrong_. He had been wrong, all these years, and now with a sinking, sickening dread he realized he may never be right again.

"You promised me," Kurt said, anger seeping through his voice, "You promised that you would always love me, that you would always be there. How could you do something like this? How could you just… take yourself away?"

"That's not fair, Kurt," Blaine said, his voice a little edgy but still controlled. "You broke promises, too. You promised you'd never say goodbye to me!"

And Kurt didn't know what to say to that, because it was so very true. His expression softened, and all at once he felt tears prickling at his eyes. "I'm sorry, Blaine," he said softly. "I'm so, so sorry. I've never regretted anything in my life so much as that. You don't know how many times I picked up the phone to call you, after that day, how many emails and letters I wrote and never sent."

"I'm sorry, too. It was my fault, my sin. You were right to leave me. I wanted so badly to go to you, but I told myself I didn't deserve you after what I did."

Kurt was lost in the moment, though, and continued on as if he didn't hear Blaine's words. "I regretted leaving you, like that. I tried to blame you, but I eventually had to admit to myself that a lot of what had happened was my fault. I never did appreciate everything you brought into my life, until it was gone."

He chuckled a little, darkly, before looking up and meeting Blaine's eyes. Blaine thought that the unshed tears their intensified the blue to a point of almost unearthly beauty, and some bit of memory stirred painfully within him.

"While you were 'straightening up' for me, I was looking for you, Blaine." Kurt spoke again. "I never stopped. Every book I read, every movie, every… lover, all I ever wanted in them was you. I even took a class on religion. I wanted to understand you, I guess. Understand myself. I studied Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, you name it. I didn't find God, but I did feel closer to you. Maybe I needed you there with me to really find meaning in it all."

"I'm glad that you tried," Blaine said honestly. "I wish you could find Him, but I guess that isn't meant to happen for everybody. I've always wanted it so badly, for you. God is… peace. He's an anchor. I never could have gotten through losing you without Him, I think."

Kurt forced a smile at him, indulgently. "I think it's a trust thing. I was always pretty independent, and after my mom died, I think I decided then and there that I wouldn't put faith in anything or anyone else. Not until you. We've always been meant to be, Blaine. Can't you feel that?"

Blaine looked away from him, sad but resolute. "Sometimes I think we're meant for more than one thing, Kurt. Sometimes we have to pick one and go with it. Sometimes we don't get a second chance to go back and choose again."

"No," Kurt said, a little desperate, a little on edge. He stood up and began pacing back and forth in the small space between the pews. "No, I won't accept that. I can't accept that. This was supposed to be our second chance, Blaine. Please don't ruin it!"

"I'm sorry, Kurt." He was and he wasn't. Blaine had made the right choice for him at the time, when a life without Kurt was a reality he'd had to accept. "My hands are tied."

"And what about your heart, Blaine? Can you honestly say you don't love me?" There was a determined glint in Kurt's eyes, shining there through the tears, and Blaine recognized the expression from long ago.

He swallowed thickly. "That's not fair, Kurt. You're not being fair," he tried to reason.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you," Kurt said, not caring that his voice was bordering on mocking. "Life isn't fair!" Kurt had never believed that, until just now. _Life isn't fair_. He had heard it a thousand times growing up, of course. He had thought he was clever when he decided that it wasn't life that wasn't fair, it was people. Now, fate itself seemed to smirk at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Blaine asked, throwing his hands up in the air and lifting his head in the same direction, as though speaking to someone that Kurt couldn't see. When he met Kurt's eyes at last he looked so broken that it made Kurt physically _hurt_. "What is it that you want from me?" he added softly, looking down and away again.

Kurt knew that this was mostly a rhetorical question, but it still stopped him, made him ponder. What could he still asked for? Because nothing Blaine had now to give would ever be enough.

"Stay the night with me, one last time," he pleaded. No, it wasn't enough, but it was a lot to ask, Kurt knew, and it was far, far better than nothing at all.

"Kurt," Blaine said, shaking his head and offering the other man a sad, humorless smile. "You know that that would be a sin." But even as he said it, Blaine knew his answer would be yes.

* * *

They walked together back to Blaine's house, entering into the living room and standing there awkwardly, stealing glances at each other. Kurt looked around a little, pleased to note that the décor did at least look like something in the neighborhood of what he imagined the old Blaine, _his_ Blaine, would have liked.

"So, how about I make us that dinner you were asking about earlier?" Blaine suggested, breaking the silence.

Kurt smiled at him, relieved at the mention of something to do. "That sounds nice. Can I help?"

"Sure," Blaine shrugged his shoulders and started down the hallway. "Kitchen's this way, follow me."

After surveying the kitchen, they decided to make a pizza. Blaine assembled the dough, sauce and cheese on the counter, poking around in various cupboards to see what additional ingredients were available. "Looks like we can do sausage, peppers, and mushrooms, but I'm actually out of olives right now." He remembered that that had been one of Kurt's go-to toppings.

"That's fine, those put the sodium content through the roof anyway," Kurt said dismissively.

They set to work easily and comfortably, chatting now and then about Kurt's job or past mutual friends that Blaine sometimes ran into. Kurt realized with a pang that there were some friends that they both still kept in touch with, and surely they might have informed Kurt that Blaine had become a priest at some point before now.

Kurt was dicing some tomatoes for a salad, pizza bubbling in the oven when Blaine suggested that they watch a movie while they eat.

"I have plenty of the musicals we used to watch together, but there's some other stuff in there too, if you prefer." Blaine handed Kurt the box he kept his dvds in after they had settled in the living room with their food. Kurt shuffled through them before spotting an old favorite. He ran his fingers over the title, remembering that they used to watch this one quite a lot. It had been years… should he?

"Oh," Blaine gasped from behind him, noticing which disk he was fingering. "That would be ok, if it's what you want." He sounded hesitant, but Kurt chose to ignore it and plucked the movie from its flap in the box before he could change his mind.

They were halfway through the nuns' performance of "Maria" when it occurred to Kurt why, exactly, _The Sound of Music_ had been a terrible idea. Blaine sat tensely beside him throughout most of the movie, cracking a half-hearted smile only at the irresistible parts (definitely little Gretl singing "So Long, Farewell" at the party.)

Kurt needed so badly to reach out for him, to be held and comforted and allowed to cry in his arms, but he didn't dare. He made it through until "Something Good" before he broke down completely, curling in on himself as terrible, uncontrollable sobs wracked his body and wishing desperately that it would all just _stop_.

But then he didn't want it to stop, because Blaine was there with him, back again, pulling Kurt into his arms and cradling him against his chest.

"Why, Kurt?" Blaine asked him, sounding a little lost and very much as though he was crying himself. Kurt stole a glance upwards and saw that he was.

But Kurt wasn't sure which _why_ to answer.

"Maria, she got out because she loved him!" He declared a little crazily, snuggling closer into Blaine's embrace and burying his face in the other man's chest. "Why can't you?"

"It's not the same, you know its not. Don't make me explain. Please, Kurt. You know me too well."

"I know you, know _us_ well enough to know that we shouldn't be apart. Why can't that matter more? Why did you have to put this… this _thing_ between us? Why can't I get you back!?"

Blaine was silent, moving his hand across the shaking man's back as tears trailed endlessly down his own cheeks. Inside he was screaming, but there was no room to let that out. Just like there was no room to let the love out, all of it trapped and held so carefully inside the life that he had created for himself.

* * *

The movie was left unfinished as they huddled together on the couch until their tears finally ran dry. They moved slowly, then, in unspoken agreement as they washed and brushed and changed as through this were any other night like hundreds before, when they had gotten ready together. But this wasn't any of those nights. This was the first such night in a long time, and it would be the last they would ever share.

Necessities taken care of, they stretched out on opposite sides of Blaine's bed, facing one another with only their hands touching, clasped between them like a lifeline. They studied each other for a long while, speaking volumes only with their eyes, before Kurt at last drifted off to sleep.

Blaine was still awake when Kurt shifted in his sleep, moving closer and curling around him until it seemed that every part of the taller man's body was somehow tucked in against his own. His arms wrapped around Kurt instinctively, and it was not enough and far too much for Blaine to handle all at once. He could hear the other man's gentle breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest as it pressed against him and the warm breath trickling over his ear and cheek.

He knew he should move away, but Blaine wanted this so badly, wanted to hold Kurt there forever even as he tried to memorize everything about the beautiful man in preparation for letting him go. The sweet temptation of sin had never been stronger, sharper, never been there at all, if Blaine was honest, until the moment he laid eyes on Kurt once again. Kurt was like a drug to a former addict, and it took all the strength Blaine had (and some that he knew wasn't his own at all) to keep himself from seeking a fix.

At some point, Blaine must have fallen asleep, too, because the next thing he became aware of was a voice moaning his name. _Kurt's voice_. There was a familiar hardness pressed up against his hip, a knee flung over his groin, and he realized in terror that he was equally aroused. He ground his hips up once, twice, before flinging himself off the bed and backing against the wall. No, no, no.

The sunlight was barely streaming through the window now, illuminating the bed where Kurt still rested. He was blinking awake slowly at the sudden loss of his pillow, grinding a little into the bed until his eyes opened more fully and he noticed Blaine standing there, staring at him in awe and fear.

Kurt came to himself, then, and realized what had been going on. "Blaine," he cried out, a little helplessly.

"Kurt," Blaine nearly whispered back, sounding a little wrecked.

And there were tears again, of course there were.

"It's over now," Kurt said sadly, clutching at the bedding as though it were an anchor that could keep him in the moment, together with Blaine.

Blaine only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Kurt stood, forcing himself to turn away from the man he still loved and walk into the adjoining bathroom. He emerged sometime later, fully dressed and considerably more composed. At least on the outside.

He slowly approached Blaine, who hadn't moved from where he stood by the window and was still staring blankly at the spot on the bed that Kurt once occupied. Tenderly, he reached out to cup Blaine's face.

Blaine didn't look up. He hadn't gotten to say goodbye the last time, and this time he simply couldn't find the strength.

Kurt caressed Blaine's face for a moment before blinking back his tears and pulling away. A moment later, he was gone. Gone away from Blaine, away from their stolen second chance.

* * *

But then it was the next day, and Kurt was bursting into the Church, running at him full force. Blaine paused and watched from where he had been re-arranging the altar flowers just so. "Kurt," he managed to call out, the question evident in his voice. Thank God he was alone.

Without a word, Kurt was on him, pressing their lips together in a desperate, searing kiss. A kiss that was delicious sin and heat and absolutely everything that Blaine never could resist, and he was feeding into it, licking into Kurt's mouth and taking, taking, taking everything.

When Kurt finally pulled back, he was crying and shaking. He met Blaine's eyes, searching there for something before asking "Do you believe in the afterlife? For us, I mean… is there a place for us there?"

"Kurt," he said again, defeated and broken and sighing. "It wouldn't be heaven if you weren't there."

Kurt nodded then, resolutely. He stared at Blaine for a moment more before turning and walking calmly, slowly out of the Church.

Blaine crumbled to the floor as his body began to shake with empty, broken sobs. He wondered, for the first time in his life, if God was good and if he cared and if it all had been worth it.

Outside alone in his car, Kurt cried silently with his forehead pressed against the leather of his steering wheel. Then, for the second time in his life, Kurt Hummel began to pray.


End file.
